


Friend

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [158]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boys In Love, Don't copy to another site, Drabble, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Protective Tony Stark, Short & Sweet, Stephen Strange Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 16:25:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19232779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: Tony understands what it is to have had a friend too rigid and proud to bend for the greater good.





	Friend

   The moment Tony stepped foot in the Sanctum he knew something was wrong. It wasn’t obvious, not in the way he’d sometimes walk in on shattered glass, spilled blood, or a broken staircase, no this felt far more sinister in nature. There was an oppressive gloom closing in around him, stealing his breath and making his heart skip a beat. Without looking Tony knew the hairs on his arms were standing on end, awareness rippling across his skin with the knowledge that things weren’t right.

   Despite the prevailing unease inside him, Tony didn’t panic. The Sanctum, as he had learned over the course of these past few months, responded instinctually to Stephen’s moods in a way that was eerie. If the Sanctum was feeling this dissolute, then it meant Stephen was at least alive to feel that way.

   Tony moved slowly up the staircase, mindful of any noises that might suggest an ongoing battle or relic gone haywire, but it was practically silent. Usually Tony was greeted by either the Cloak or Stephen himself, occasionally Wong. It was clearly not going to happen tonight, so he simply followed the hallway in whatever direction felt right.

   He didn’t wander for long.

   Light spilled into the hallway from the door up ahead and shadows moved through it with intent. Tony didn’t need to think to hard to know that was the study and likely where Stephen and Wong had holed up. As he approached, Tony couldn’t deny the low hum of anxiety moving through him.

   He didn’t know what he would find when he walked into that room and while Tony had seen a lot since dating a sorcerer, he knew there were always more things that could pop up to shock him. As it was, Tony remained silent as he finally reached the doorway and paused there, taking in the sight before him with a twist of the stomach.

   Stephen was stood behind his large oak desk, strewn with papers and bleeding from a cut on his cheek, bruises blossoming around his eye. His jaw was clenched, those trembling fingers gripping the edge harshly enough to certainly cause spasms of pain through him.

   Wong was on the other side, hands clasped politely behind his back, though the straightness of his spine and low current of anger in his tone revealed his true emotions.

   “We can’t let this stand any longer Stephen,” Wong was saying.

   “What do you want me to do? Kill him?” was the snapped reply.

   Wong shook his head, irritation in every sharp turn, “I didn’t say that, but you hesitated today and that’s why he got away.”

   It was obvious this conversation had been going on for awhile, even more likely in circles from the exhaustion marring their faces and their words. Tony didn’t bother trying to puzzle out the argument, choosing instead to break the cycle with his presence. He cleared his throat softly, earning him two sharp looks.

   Silence settled among the three of them for a long moment. Tony waited.

   “Stark,” Wong finally greeted him with a nod before looking back at Stephen. “I’ll speak with you in the morning and see what the other masters think.”

   “Tell them to find someone else.”

   The frown on Wong’s face would have been enough to make even Tony flounder but Stephen didn’t budge, the hurt swimming in those eyes telling more then he likely wanted to reveal, “he’s my friend Wong.”

   The other man didn’t respond, simply turned away and disappeared through a hastily drawn portal. They were left alone.

   Tony inched his way into the office, smiling softly when the Cloak fluttered over to him and presented itself for a petting, which he indulged in only briefly, eyes glued to Stephen’s slumped shoulders.

   Not too long ago, that sight would have had Tony leaving, giving his lover whatever space he might need to work it out. It made his chest ache with emotion at the realization he’d never want to do that again, not to Stephen.

   “I’d ask if you’re alright, but I already know the answer.”

   Stephen looked up at him with those stormy eyes, filed to bursting with a kind of heartache and failure that was all too familiar. Tony patted the Cloak one last time and strode over to Stephen and guided him to sit in the chair, which he did with an exhausted sigh.

   “Do you want to talk about it?” Tony inquired gently, hands poking and prodding carefully at the split skin and darkening bruises.

   Stephen endured silently. Tony didn’t push.

   Then finally, “there were some people that got hurt today.”

   Tony simply nodded, knew better then to ask for clarification, instead motioning at the desk and offering a smile of thanks when a bowl of water and a cloth appeared. He busied himself dampening it, wondering if Stephen had failed to save one, if that was the reason for the black mood. For some reason he doubted it.

   “The person that hurt them,” Stephen drew a shaky breath as Tony began dabbing at the blood. “He is a friend.”

   Tony paused. The wording threw him off. A friend of Stephen’s that had hurt somebody. Tony carefully focused on his task, “friend?”

   Stephen’s eyes were looking past him, at some memory, “he, um, trained me when I first came to Kamar-Taj. He-”

   Tony squeezed Stephen’s arm with his unoccupied hand. It was obvious Stephen was weary of naming this figure and Tony didn’t blame him, unfortunate side to their careers. There were some things, some people that Stephen and the sorcerers dealt with on their own and the Avengers shouldn’t be involved. Tony didn’t mind.

   “But he’s hurt people?” Tony prompted, wetting the rag again.

   Stephen grimaced, “he thinks he’s doing the right thing, putting the universe in order. He isn’t malicious, he’s-”

   Stephen seemed at a loss for words and it made sense. His lover had asked Wong to find someone else, he couldn’t do it, it was his friend. Tony understood that better then most.

   “Some men don’t know how to bend and one day they can’t help but break.”

   Tony met Stephen’s gaze and an understanding settled between them. He had known his fair share of heartbreak at the loss of a man too proud and too rigid to bend for the greater good. Stephen didn’t need to justify himself, not to Tony.

   “Thank you,” Stephen murmured, as though he had said it all out loud.

   Tony just offered up a smile, leaned in to press a gentle kiss to the bruises and tugged him up and toward the doorway. Stephen needed to sleep, and Tony needed to hold him for a little while.

**Author's Note:**

> Am I comparing Steve and Mordo? Yes, yes I am. Is that supposed to be an insult? No, no its not.


End file.
